


I Never Thought It Would Be You

by musegaarid



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sexy Times, Ten Years Later, past Tamaki/Haruhi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1533614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musegaarid/pseuds/musegaarid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years later, Tamaki goes to see an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never Thought It Would Be You

"Well, this _is_ a pleasure." Kyoya stepped away from the front door of his penthouse apartment, inviting his friend in with a gesture. "How long has it been? Four years?"

"I'm sure you're right," Tamaki replied, with only the faintest hint of a smile. "You always are."

Closing the door, Kyoya indicated that Tamaki should take a seat. "And what, may I ask, brings you to my door at half past eleven on a Thursday night, four years after we last saw one another?"

Without looking up, Tamaki said, "I just wanted to talk. To a friend."

Kyoya had known about Tamaki's pending divorce for months. He had actually expected him to come by sooner, but it seemed the man had wanted to wait until it was finalized before seeking assistance. 

"Can I offer you a drink?" 

Tamaki nodded morosely. "Something simple is fine. One of those drinks with three kinds of alcohol. And fruit juice and a cherry. And one of those tiny paper umbrellas that commoners on vacation use to show that they're having a fancy fruit drink."

The light glinted off Kyoya's glasses as he pushed them up his nose. "As you like." Pulling out his phone, he repeated Tamaki's order, then snapped it shut. "It will be here in a moment."

Pouring himself a scotch on the rocks, Kyoya settled into his favorite chair and dangled his legs over the armrest. The ice clinked as he raised the tumbler to his lips.

Tamaki began, hesitantly. "Have you…"

The buzzer sounded.

"Come," said Kyoya.

Akito entered from a side door, carrying an entire pineapple on a silver tray. A forest of twisty straws, skewers shaped like swords, and paper umbrellas sprouted from the top. Kyoya would have written off the entire spectacle as utterly ridiculous except that it seemed to bring a tiny sparkle back to Tamaki's eyes.

Bowing, the butler offered the drink to Kyoya's guest. "Is there anything else you require this evening, sir?"

"No. You may retire."

"Very good, sir." Akito bowed again and left.

Tamaki chose one of the straws at random and took a long sip. He sighed.

"Is it to your liking?"

"It's very good." He took a smaller sip and looked up. "Have you heard from Honey-san or Mori-san lately?"

Resting his head against the back of the chair, Kyoya idly sloshed his scotch from side to side. "The last I heard, Honey-san and his wife recently welcomed a third child. While they have servants to take care of the children, Mori-san remains their primary caregiver."

Tamaki's eyes softened. "He always did like small, lovely items."

"Indeed."

"And the twins?"

"They are engaged to be married to their royal majesties, the crown princesses of Sweden."

"Sisters?" asked Tamaki in surprise.

"Twins," Kyoya smirked. "I was afraid the language barrier would prove to be an obstacle, but they seemed to understand each other perfectly well without words."

"You were…" Tamaki blinked. "Did you arrange this?"

"Of course."

"But why?"

"Because I could."

In the silence that followed, both men attended to their drinks. 

"How did…"

"In the end, it was quite simple," Kyoya interrupted. "And aren't you curious to know how those two will fare as kings? I fear for all of Europe."

"You did that for fun? Just to see what would happen? Kyoya, you were always cool, but when did you turn so cold?"

Kyoya tilted his head, making his expression unreadable. "The light of the moon is only reflected sunlight. When the sun ceases to shine, the moon grows dark and cold."

"Did your father tell you that?"

"Oh, no." Kyoya stood and crossed to the small bar to refill his glass. "I learned that elsewhere. And you, Tamaki? What have you learned?"

Tamaki stared into his pineapple. "I've learned that no matter how hard I try, I can't always make a woman happy."

"Yes, women are fickle creatures."

"I've seen pictures of you in magazines," said Tamaki suddenly. "With Oshika Yuki."

"Yuki is more than fickle," Kyoya replied dryly.

"That is no way to talk about your girlfriend!"

Kyoya looked surprised. "She's not my girlfriend."

"But the papers say, 'Japan's Most Eligible Bachelor Seen Again With Famous Heiress' and 'Otori and Oshika Out in Okinawa!' and 'Wedding Bells for Handsome Host?'" quoted Tamaki earnestly.

"It's a smokescreen," explained Kyoya. His second drink had considerably more scotch than the first. "I don't wish to marry and she doesn't want to be controlled by her father. By being seen together, our parents leave us in peace." He took another sip. "But I am flattered that you've been keeping tabs on me."

Tamaki looked like he wanted to curl up in a corner and mope, but he seemed to resist the urge. "That's so sad!"

"Oh, not at all," said Kyoya airily. He crossed the room to stand behind Tamaki on the couch. "She's reasonably pleasant company. It's like spending time with any of the Host Club guests, without having to arrange for elaborate costumes."

Tamaki quickly regained his good humor and laughed. "We did have fun, didn't we? Which was your favorite cosplay?"

"I suppose the samurai costumes were the most comfortable…" Downing the remainder of his drink, Kyoya set the empty glass on a side table. "And you?"

"Mm…" Giving the matter some serious consideration, Tamaki finally said, "The ball gowns, maybe. When we were showing the St. Lobelia girls that we were sufficiently feminine for Ha… for anyone."

"Not something to brag about, I think," muttered Kyoya.

"You made a lovely woman…" Tamaki mused.

Kyoya cuffed him lightly on the head. "And you wore far too much makeup."

"I suppose red just isn't my color," the blond continued airily. "But that purple dress really brought out your eyes."

Punching Tamaki on the arm, Kyoya said, "That's enough of that."

"Hey, quit hitting me." Tamaki turned around to push Kyoya.

Kyoya shoved him off the couch. "Then stop saying stupid shit."

"It's not stupid!" yelled Tamaki from the floor where he pulled Kyoya's legs out from under him. With both men on the ground, the wrestling began in earnest. Tables were knocked over and sofa cushions went flying. Fortunately, neither was seriously trying to hurt the other.

After a couple of minutes of effort, Kyoya ended up straddling Tamaki, with one hand fisted in his friend's shirt. Trying to catch his breath, the Shadow King smirked in victory. "Now why does this seem familiar…"

Tamaki didn't speak. He just stared at Kyoya, looking pensive.

"What?"

"I'm the sun, aren't I? Your sun. And for ten years I have left you dark and cold and alone in the vast reaches of space."

Kyoya tipped his head down, turning his glasses opaque for a moment. "Idiot," he said softly, giving nothing – and everything – away. 

Reaching up, Tamaki ran his fingers through soft black hair before tugging Kyoya gently down into a kiss. Lips parting, Kyoya briefly returned the embrace for the sake of a long discarded dream before placing his hand on Tamaki's chest and pushing away. "We can't do this, Tono."

Sad, violet eyes peered up at him. "Why not?"

"I trust it hasn't escaped your attention that we are both men..."

Tamaki shook his head. "All that time with the Host Club and you still think that matters?"

Kyoya let go of Tamaki's shirt and sat back on his heels. "And you're still so naïve to think that it doesn't? You are the heir to the Suoh Corporation. With this kind of shame, they could disown you completely. It's not worth it."

"I married a poor commoner and now I'm divorced," the blond whispered. "I've already brought shame to my family. They would probably just see this as a business opportunity." 

Only Tamaki could have said such a callous thing with that much sincerity.

"And you, Kyoya. You made your fortune yourself and you don't need the support of the Otori Group. So, your brothers should just let you be happy."

Kyoya snorted. "The world doesn't work that way just because you want it to. Even without family pressures, you can't change your sexuality on a whim. You were with a woman for ten years. Have you ever even thought about being with a man? Have you ever fantasized about sliding up against a hard, muscular chest? Have you ever put your fingers up your ass, wanting to feel that fullness?"

He had been hoping to shock Tamaki into leaving. But while the other man's face flushed a dull red, he didn't move from his supine position on the floor. Instead, Tamaki's eyes were locked on Kyoya's and he looked more… interested than embarrassed.

"Have… have you?" Tamaki asked breathlessly.

He was subjected to the full weight of the shadowy glare that Kyoya had perfected in high school.

"But, how did you know that _that_ was what you wanted?"

Kyoya sighed and leaned back against the sofa, realizing he wouldn't get out of this so easily. "Haruhi," he finally said.

Tamaki squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them, determined to get through the conversation. "She is an amazing woman."

"Yes," said Kyoya. "And you're still in love with her."

"Yes," Tamaki agreed simply. "I think I always will be. But we can't be together. Every time I tried to make her happy, I only ended up annoying her instead. She'd tell me that filling her whole office with flowers on her birthday was wasteful and inconvenient. Or that renting out the entire theater to see her favorite play wasn't fair to the other people who wanted to see it. I couldn't… I could never do anything right. And what we want from life is too different. I want a family and she wants to save the world."

A fleeting smile touched Kyoya's lips.

"So how did she find out about you?" asked Tamaki.

Kyoya let his head fall back onto the sofa cushion. He was starting to feel the effects of finishing his drinks so quickly. "Oh, she never found out," he explained. "But I had a bit of a crush on her in high school…"

Tamaki's eyes went big and a bit wobbly, but Kyoya held up a hand to forestall the tears.

"Don't worry. I knew from the beginning that I was attracted to her and I occasionally even liked her, but we were not suited to one another. I was truly happy when you two married. By then I'd realized that I had really only wanted her because she was safe."

"Safe?"

"She looked like a man, but it was socially acceptable to harbor an attraction for her because she was, in fact, a woman. When I realized the implications of that, I was able to let her go."

"The implication being that you're gay," said Tamaki, softly.

"If you must."

"It's all right, you know."

Kyoya shot him another dark look. "Yes, I know it's all right."

Sitting up, Tamaki scooted closer to Kyoya. "So, what kind of boy do you like?" he grinned. "Do you prefer the strong, silent type, the loli-shota type, the cool type, or the mischievous type?" Leaning in, Tamaki added, "Or maybe you're into a guy like me…"

"Fool," murmured Kyoya. He could almost swear he'd just seen roses in his peripheral vision, but decided it had to be an effect of the scotch. "I don't believe in romance and I certainly don't need a prince to rescue me."

Tamaki moved closer still. "What if it was you who was rescuing the prince?"

Kyoya was quiet a moment. "That's an intriguing notion… in its own way." 

Neither was sure who initiated the next kiss but it was as fierce and needy as the first had been tentative and gentle. Distantly, Kyoya noted that the lanky teenager he'd known had grown into a very well-proportioned man. His hands worked their way under Tamaki's shirt to better map the difference. Meanwhile, Tamaki was valiantly trying to undo Kyoya's buttons without breaking the connection with his lips. 

"Tamaki…" murmured Kyoya, eventually, trying to break the kiss.

The blond held on tighter and kissed harder.

"Tamaki..."

"What?" replied Tamaki, dazed.

"This might be more comfortable if we moved off the floor."

Tamaki grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."

With a little less than his usual grace, Kyoya stood, offering a hand to Tamaki. Together they tumbled onto the couch where Tamaki finally managed to get Kyoya's shirt open.

"You're beautiful, Mommy." As with everything Tamaki said, it was a painfully earnest statement of the truth as he saw it. 

In retaliation, Kyoya pulled his friend's shirt over his head. "Don't call me that."

Tamaki laughed. "Stop me, Mo…"

Kyoya stopped him with his mouth.

After several minutes of increasingly heated kissing, Kyoya slid off Tamaki's lap to land on the floor between his legs. He moved to unbutton Tamaki's slacks while the blond just blinked down at him uncomprehendingly. When everything was arranged to his satisfaction Kyoya moved in to claim his prize, but Tamaki scooted away in alarm.

"You… You can't do that!" he exclaimed, cheeks glowing. "It's dirty."

Kyoya raised an eyebrow. "It's possible that your sex life was even sadder than I had imagined."

"You imagined…?" Tamaki interrupted that train of thought as quickly as possible. "But, no, we didn't. Do that. Haruhi is a lady."

"I'm not," shrugged Kyoya, and he took Tamaki into his mouth. Tamaki gasped rather satisfyingly and released his breath on a long, low moan. Curious to see what other sounds he could elicit, Kyoya began nipping and licking Tamaki's cock. After intense suction, he would pull off completely to blow across the damp head and then return to tonguing the sensitive area beneath. The blond was gratifyingly vocal about his pleasure while Kyoya was quiet, apart from the unavoidable wet noises. In fact, he was quite content to stay in that floaty, warm place of tipsiness and arousal, grounded by the fullness in his mouth and the soft skin between his slick lips. It was just enough to keep him distracted from his own needs. Eventually, though, the stimulation was too much for Tamaki.

"Kyo…oh! I'm nearly there. You mustn't… you can't… Kyoya, you have to stop now…"

Kyoya shook his head. He brought his hand up to encircle the base of Tamaki's cock and bobbed his head just in time to catch the first spurt of ejaculate. Swallowing quickly, Kyoya let his mouth fill with warmth once more, gentling his actions until he could release Tamaki, now clean and limp.

Tamaki looked down at him. He pointed. "You have, ah… some… there on the corner of your mouth."

Kyoya's tongue darted out to gather the stray droplet. He glanced up at his prince sitting disheveled, red-faced, and panting on a rather expensive sofa. Then Tamaki smiled.

"Oh, Kyoya, that _was_ very dirty. But in a very nice way."

"Hmm," murmured the brunette noncommittally, wondering what he would have thought if he had experienced his first blowjob at the age of twenty-eight. Or if he was anywhere near as enthusiastic as Tamaki was about anything. He stood up carefully and reached out. "Come to bed."

Tamaki grasped his hand and was pulled to his feet. He allowed himself to be led to the bedroom where Kyoya undressed them both unhurriedly, his erection still prominently declaring its ready state. Tamaki looked both nervous and intrigued. As a teenager, he'd admired Kyoya's willowy form, especially at the beach, but it had been an innocent aesthetic appreciation. Now, discovering that Kyoya was as long and elegant in his manhood as he was everywhere else, Tamaki felt a great stirring of passion and tenderness. He lay on the bed as alluringly as he knew how.

"I don't know what to do," he admitted softly, wanting so much to touch, maybe even to taste, but it was all a bit new and scary.

"You don't have to do anything but tell me if I do something you don't like."

"Okay…"

Kyoya crawled across the bed to sit across Tamaki's thighs. "Is this all right?"

"Yes."

With a nod, Kyoya brought a hand up and wrapped it around his cock, relishing the anticipation of release, but Tamaki shook his head, looking worried.

"No! You'll make yourself blind if you do that!"

Kyoya stared at his friend blankly.

"Father told me once… Father said…" He blinked. Tamaki was quite intelligent. Sometimes his mind took a few detours, but when he paid attention he was good at intuiting the truth. "But you're not blind. And… you've probably done this before. Many times. For years. Since high school even."

Kyoya was completely still.

Tamaki gasped. "Middle school?! Really? So after school and Host Club events you would just go home and lay in your bed and touch yourself?"

Kyoya started slowly dragging his hand up and down his shaft in subtle confirmation. Tamaki groaned, his imagination and memory colliding to rewrite history in erotic form. He wanted to close his eyes and indulge in fantasy. He kept them open because it was happening right before him. Kyoya made very little noise, but he did tip his head back in clear enjoyment and his knees tightened around Tamaki. Wanting to help but not get in the way, Tamaki caressed his friend's thighs and hips as he moved to his own rhythm. Before long, Kyoya made a pained sound and came across Tamaki's chest and stomach. He fell down gracefully to the bed, spent and tired, to gaze myopically at his partner. With a faint and curious smile, Tamaki touched a finger to the come on his chest and sucked it lightly into his mouth. Kyoya inhaled sharply, feeling an echo of his earlier arousal.

"You taste bitter," Tamaki announced.

"Clown," muttered Kyoya, gathering a shirt from the floor - he couldn't care less as to whose it was - and wiping Tamaki's body with a gentleness that belied his harsh tone. He threw the soiled garment back down and pulled the blanket up, turning his back to the blond. "Go to sleep."

Tamaki scooted up against the other man and laid an arm across his waist. "Good night, Mommy." 

Even Kyoya couldn't grumble when he felt the delicate kiss to his shoulder.

***

Kyoya woke early the next morning thanks to his excellent and discreet butler. He was still not a morning person, but he'd gotten somewhat used to the feeling, and coffee usually mitigated the worst of the grumpiness. It wasn't until he'd roused himself enough to rise that he remembered his bed-mate. He glanced at Tamaki, his blond hair contrasting beautifully with Kyoya's sheets, forming a shining halo in the morning sun. The young man's face was slack and he was drooling slightly onto the pillow. Kyoya rolled his eyes at his own immediate sense of fondness and slid carefully out of bed, trying not to wake his friend. How had he thought this was a good idea?

He prepared for his day as silently as possible, then sat down to compose a letter. 

_Tamaki,_

_I have a meeting to attend this morning, so I cannot see you out. When you wake, ring for Akito and he will bring you breakfast, clothing, towels, or anything you may require. Don't worry, his discretion can be relied upon._

Kyoya paused, staring blankly at the sheet of paper. There didn't seem to be a way to write down what he wanted to say in a manner he found acceptable. After several long minutes of thought, he simply signed it –

_K_

He placed the note on his pillow and left, certain he would never see his friend again.

***

When Kyoya got home that evening, he found that his flat had been cleaned. In the living room, his tables had been replaced in their original locations and the sofa's cushions were straightened and fluffed. In the bedroom, all of their clothing had disappeared from the floor and even the sheets on the bed had been changed. There was no evidence that Tamaki had ever really been there at all.

Not allowing himself to voice a sigh, Kyoya turned back to the scotch, wondering how much Tamaki had regretted the whole night. But he was distracted from his musings by a sharp tap at the window. It wasn't a sound he'd heard in this apartment before, seeing as he lived on the fifty-fourth floor, but it was one he remembered from a decade earlier when his bedroom had been on the second floor of his family's home. Hearing another rattle, Kyoya stepped to the curtains covering the wide windows on one side of the living room and drew them back only to see Tamaki's smiling face on the other side. He was holding a handful of pebbles and gesturing for Kyoya to open the window. Stunned by the hot air balloon floating outside his penthouse suite, it took Kyoya a moment to slide the window open.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

Tamaki grinned and held up a large basket. "I have all your favorite foods here. I thought we could fly to Jindai Botanical Garden, have a picnic, and look up at the stars."

"I'm not a romantic," protested Kyoya.

"I am."

Kyoya looked again at the balloon, at the long drop below, at the picnic basket, at the empty glass in his hand, and at the blond's hopeful face. He smiled and reached for Tamaki's outstretched hand.


End file.
